


Thin Ice

by starlabsforever



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Caitlin needs help, Cisco means well, Gen, angst angst angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-26 00:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10775643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlabsforever/pseuds/starlabsforever
Summary: “That’s why I need to go,” Caitlin said in a strangled voice. “Because when I turn into her, she’ll kill you.”“You’re not gonna turn into her.” Cisco grabbed her hand. “Don’t go jumping off of bridges before we try to fix this.”Her eyes widened with panic. “Let go,” she commanded.Caitlin is struggling with her powers and hiding how bad things really are. Cisco tries to help, but ends up pushing her a little too far.





	Thin Ice

**Author's Note:**

> For the Tumblr prompt, "Where'd you put the... oh."  
> Takes place whenever. Could be before or after 3x18.

The wrench slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Cisco rubbed his hands together briskly, trying to warm them up and get some feeling in his fingers, and then mentally cursed Central City for being a literal meat locker. It was almost April, for crying out loud. April meant flowers and baby birds, not hypothermia. As if the freak cold front weren’t enough, the STAR Labs furnace- Calvin, he’d nicknamed it -had finally given up the ghost. It was about zero degrees and his hands were too cold and stiff to fix anything. It was even more freezing down in the basement.

“Space heater,” he mumbled to himself, and headed for the stairs, hands deep in his coat pockets. He emerged in the empty Cortex- everyone had gone home, except for Caitlin, who was in her lab. The space heater was also noticeably absent. Caitlin must have taken it. Well, that just gave him an excuse to send her home. The amount of time she’d spent holed up working in her lab was crossing the border into concerning territory. Still hugging himself, he slogged over to Caitlin’s lab and pushed through the door without knocking.

He could see the top of her head over her office chair, which was facing away from him. “Hey Cait,” he called, loudly, so that she would hear him through her work fugue.

She glanced back at him with wide, startled eyes. “Cisco,” she said, her voice a few semitones higher than usual. 

She was hunched over her desk and she looked pale and tired. “You should go home,” he said. “It’s late and it’s cold.”

She didn’t move. “You should leave, too,” she said, turning her face away from him again.

“Yeah, but I’m the guy who’s gonna fix our archaic furnace. There’s no point in you freezing your butt off when you could be home in your nice,  _heated_ apartment. Which brings me to my request.” He darted around the side of her desk to face her. “Have you seen the-”

He stopped dead. Caitlin was curled up in her office chair in a STAR Labs sweatshirt that dwarfed her, two or three blankets piled on her lap, and- his breath hitched in his throat -her hair was white and her lips were blue. His brain caught up, filling in the details he’d failed to miss- everything on this side of her desk was covered in a thin layer of frost, including the apparently defunct space heater in the corner.

He gaped at her.  _“Oh.”_

Caitlin stared back at him, panic-stricken. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

He ignored that. “How long have you been like this?” He instinctively rushed to her side. She jumped up and scrambled backwards.

“Get away,” she begged. “I don’t want to hurt you.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re not going to.” Cisco stepped forward, slowly, so that he wouldn’t startle her. Now that he was closer, he could see that there were tiny snowflakes on the ends of her eyelashes and in her eyebrows.

“You don’t know that,” she retorted, but she sounded about as threatening as a wounded kitten. She was shivering, and he wondered how she had gotten this bad without anyone noticing. His gaze fell to her hand, clutching the necklace that hung around her neck.

His throat seized up. “It stopped working?”

“It’s not your fault,” she said instantly and incorrectly. “I’m out of control.”

He shook his head. “The necklace was supposed to- it  _should_ have-”

She shrugged helplessly. “It’s my fault. I shouldn't have endangered you when it got this bad. I was going to leave, I swear, but I was too scared and today I was too cold to move and I-”

“Hey, no, listen.” Cisco stepped around the edge of the desk, careful not to step on any of the slick, icy patches. She was backing away again. “You don’t have to leave. You don’t have to do this on your own, either, I’ll help you-”

“You can’t.” She was shaking her head wildly. “It’s getting worse. I need to leave.” He had finally caught up with her and they were close enough to touch. He reached for her hand and she jerked it away violently.

“Caitlin,” he said in a level voice, so that none of his hurt or worry or exasperation would leak through. “You’re not leaving. Okay? You can’t just shut down when these things happen. Dealing with it is the only way to make it better. Whatever caused this-” he gestured around the room. “-you’re still you, you’re still talking to me, okay?”

“That’s why I need to go,” Caitlin said in a strangled voice. “Because when I turn into her, she’ll kill you.”

“You’re not gonna turn into her.” He grabbed her hand. “Don’t go jumping off of bridges before we try to fix this.”

Her eyes widened with panic. “Let go,"she commanded.

“I’m not afraid of you.” He looked into her eyes-  _brown,_ they were still brown. He reveled in that small comfort. 

She tried to jerk away from his grasp. “Cisco, please!”

He tightened his grasp. “You’re gonna have to do better than a little ice to scare me. I grew up in Detroit, Cait, I-”

“Let  _go_!” she shouted, and her eyes flashed silver. He tried to hold on to her- her wrist was starting to feel like a lifeline -but she was tugging violently, and when she finally twisted away, he lost his balance just enough that he stumbled. His heel landed on the ice and he crashed to the ground. He landed on his ass spectacularly and skidded halfway across her lab on the new ice slick that had spiraled from her fingertips. He crashed against the freezer on the back wall. A dull pain shot straight through his skull, and he felt a dull pain on the side of his head.

He heard Caitlin’s frantic footsteps and she was kneeling at his side. “You idiot,” she whispered, and he could see glassy tears freezing in the corner of her eyes. “I warned you.”

“No, ‘s okay," he mumbled, and pushed himself up. There was a rib somewhere on his left that felt seriously uncool and he almost bit his tongue, but he tried to shake it off.

“You’re bleeding,” she said tearfully. “Oh, god, Cisco.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll heal.” He reached out for her and she scrambled backwards, eyes wide and terrified. She tried to stand up, but she was shaking from the cold and from the tears and fell pathetically to her knees. 

She leaned backwards against the counter and wrapped her arms across her chest. “ _Go.”_

“No,” he said, even though he was hurt and bleeding and her lips were blue and all of his self-preservation instincts were screaming at him to run like hell, he stayed right beside her. “Hey, I might have a concussion. Don’t you wanna, like, fix me?” 

Taking care of things and people usually calmed Caitlin down, but his suggestion seemed to be the opposite of calming. “I can’t help you if I can’t touch you,” she said in a voice barely above a whimper. She lowered her head to her knees.

He crawled forward, slowly, painfully, and managed to get to her side. She didn’t move. Cautiously, he placed an arm over her back, and jeez, she was freezing. It felt good on his painful arm, but he could feel her shivering and shaking.

“Don’t,” she whispered, but didn’t move.

“Look at me,” Cisco said soothingly, but she just contracted into a tighter fetal position. He ran his fingers across her back, rubbing slow, gentle circles into her shoulder blades. He could feel her chest convulsing against his, quiet sobs that he wouldn’t have heard if not for the fact that they were a breath apart. 

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m right here,” he said, even though he was cold and his head was bleeding and there were bright white spots dancing behind his eyes. Caitlin wasn’t squirming away from him anymore, so he pulled her to him with his arm and wrapped his other one around her, pulling her to his chest. She resisted slightly, but he had a death grip around her waist.

“I hate this,” she choked out, her words muffled against his chest.

"I know." His throat felt rough and hot. “I’m so sorry, Cait. This sucks.” He heard a stray sob escape her lips. He cradled her against him and stroked her hair. “I’m so, so, sorry.” 

He pressed his lips to the top of her head and felt the tiniest chill against his lips. The cold flooded his head and numbed the pain. He held onto her for dear life, and she burrowed her face into his shirt. Her roots slowly turned brown, and her tears burned hot against his chest.


End file.
